A/N: I'm trying to picture life in the Wastelands..... nah, can't do it. I need to keep reminding myself that though the main character has already become a member of the wastelands, but still came from an upbringing within the vaults.... I need to keep making balances between knowing, not knowing, in character, not in character..... I need to think how and what people of the wastelands see as 'normal'.... but since i live a lavish lifestyle compared to them, i wouldn't know.
Chapter 5: Detouring Encounter
Ashely had no idea where that elusive business man is after their meeting went sour in Megaton. The result of that meeting was the sheriff of the town being killed, but the town was saved from being blown up. And Megaton was a place she called home. At least one of the places she called home. She had safe houses scattered across the Wasteland, yet she had not heard or seen Burke ever. He must have known she would be coming after him, or else why should he go into hiding? His place in Megaton was easy to enter, though it gave her no leads to his whereabouts. His other place in Tenpenny tower also turned up no leads.
And that was before she went to start Project Purity. Now could be different, but it may be the same. Ashely sat back in her chair, chewing on a piece of mole rat meat as she sorted out pieces of reports Harkness let her see. Rivet City had kept records of its supplies and all traders, and Harkness had also organized an occasional scouting party to ensure the surrounding area is free of Super Mutants. All reports were now in her hands. With eyes still looking through the reports, she took a second mole rat meat and held it in her free hand under the table, where Dogmeat sat. The dog ate the meat out of her hand, and licked her hand clean.
Ashely did not seem to take note of the dog licking her fingers, as she grabbed another mole rat meat from the plate on the table and ate it with the same hand that was sobbered with dog saliva. Paladin Cross, however, did take note, and cringed slightly at the sight. Still, it was best to leave Ashely to her own devices. From the little time Paladin Cross had travelled with Ashely, she found the latter to be easily absorbed in her work and not notice anything else. A trait that is definitely from her father. The paladin took a quick bite from her mirelurk cake, looking at the huge array of reports that Ashely had read through.
Looking around, the Brotherhood paladin found it odd why not one person in this musy market place of Rivet City seemed too bothered by the odd sight that a Super Mutant sat at this small table. At least it looked small since Fawkes was sitting at the table too. The Super Mutant had a large metal block pushed out for him and he was very appreciative, thanking the people who moved the huge block for him, which surprised quite a number of people, who thought the Super Mutant was postively frightening the very first time he stepped on this ship.
Going back to the main issue, Cross had no idea on the man whom Ashely was looking for. Though judging from Ashely's descriptions, that was one man Cross did not want to get involved with. Maybe only in the sense that he was looking down the barrel of her laser rifle, but most likely not.
".... What about this Talon company?"
Cross wondered out loud, breaking Ashely's thoughts. The lone wanderer, though Cross wondered if that title could still be used for Ashely any longer, licked her fingers of the sauce the mole rat meat was cooked in, grabbing her nuka-cola and taking a swing from it, though she did cringe slightly. Nuka-colas did have a small bit of radiation, and since Ashely wasn't exactly fully recovered, eating and drinking these would cause slight pain, or immense pain, either way Cross couldn't tell. After surpressing her pain down, Ashely wiped her eyes of tears that were squeezed out of her tear ducts from her pain, before pulling out a report and handing it to Cross to see.
"What's this?"
Cross wasn't exactly a scribe, and she was sure Ashely knew that, though sometimes Ashely did act as though she expected everyone to know what she was talking about. Just like her father.
"Stock supplies of Fort Banister. That is where Talon Company is hiding."
"Wha-, you knew where they are hiding?"
Cross found her voice raised an octave higher than it should be, and Ashely nodded her head, grabbing her next meal, which was a lizard on a stick. She dipped it in a side of sauce and took a bite out of it before continuing.
"I paid them a little visit once after i got tired of running into their patrols. However, i couldn't find their boss, and after interrogating one of them, i found that i wasn't exactly welcomed in their base. Could tell by the way they fired all of their guns at me, right?"
She turned to her large green friend, who, throughout the entire conversation so far, had been poking at his large Yao Guai steak to check if it was properly cooked. Of course it had been properly cooked, but Fawkes seemed to have a thing for well-done steak, and this was medium rare. Fawkes turned in response to Ashely's question and nodded in agreement.
"Yes... Very rude.... very violent people.... they don't like... talking."
"No, not very."
Ashely took another bite out of her lizard stick and turned back to her notes while Fawkes managed to call the chef to cook the steak more. Cross decided not to bother the vault kid, and looked down at the piece of paper she got handed. Most of them were numbers, decreasing in number as the list went on, but Cross noticed that the numbers suddenly jumped at a certain level.
".... Ashely, there's a change in the pattern here."
Ashely looked up at the paladin, then to the part on the piece of paper that Cross was pointing at. Certainly, there was a change in pattern, which could mean a lot of things. But it most likely meant they got a resupplied, but who could give them such a large quantity of ammunition, guns, and food? Ashely didn't like the conclusion that was being formulated in her head. If the Enclave was involved, it could mean things were just about to get a whole lot worse from now on. Burke had contacts all over the place, and his intelligence network is deeply rooted, so once she got hold of Burke, she would get a hold of some useful information, yet the Talon company had its own network, so it was important to get hold of their information as well.
Either way, she had to find Burke first, then deal with the Talon company afterwords. She had her work cut out for her. Ashely put the paper down and grabbed her nuka-cola bottle, draining its contents in one go. It burned her stomach, but she held it in. While her father's purifier continued its work, she had to drink pretty much what everyone else was drinking. Purified water only came when it was deemed impossible to find other sources of water. After the unsettling feeling in her gut went away, Ashely got up and walked over to the chef at the food stall. She was still hungry, and decided it was best to get something for the road.
After purchasing some lizard sticks, mole rat meat in sauce, and murlurk cakes, Ashely grabbed whatever she needed from the reports and tucked them into a folder Harkness handed to her, and headed out with her group following right behind her. Fawkes still had his steak being chewed in his mouth as he followed behind. Dogmeat was curious at what the giant super mutant was eating and followed in step while peering up at Fawkes's mouth.
"So, where are we heading?"
Cross asked as they stepped out of Rivet city and into the open. Ashely grabbed a mirelurk cake and stuffed it into her mouth, chewing on it as she tucked the folder into her bag. Swallowing the cake down, Ashely wore her biking gloves, and pulled out her Pip-boy.
"The last known location of Burke before i went for my coma sleep, was Tenpenny tower. Of course that tower has had a change of management and is now ruled by ghouls, so the chances of Burke going back there is nil. Fort Banister may be another, but the Talon company doesn't keep their clients in the same place as they keep their weapons, and i raided that Fort a couple of time already and no sign of Burke."
"That leaves?"
"Hmm.... i guess we'll head to the GNR and meet up with Sarah. We can trade out information there."
Cross did not argue with that idea, and the group went back to their vehicles. Usually, there wouldn't be a usuable road leading into the Capital, and they would have to use the underground, but recent activities from Super Mutants had cleared a couple of ways in. Enclaves patrols also rolled in heavy tanks and cleared away quite a lot of debris. That's probably the only thing Ashely was silently thanking the Enclave for. Ashely pulled her biking goggles down over her eyes as she started up her bike.
Once the engine gave her a satisfying roar, she pulled on its throttle and she went off, with Cross and the other two in the car following right behind. Ashely rode along the ruins of the great Capital till she found an opening. She swerved the bike, using her foot as an anchor to make her turn sharper, then releasing her foot once she was into the turn and gunned it. The other vehicle seemed to have a better turn, though Fawkes had to grab onto the seat to stop himself from falling over.
Ashely had to admit, that Cross really knew how to drive. The two vehicles rode on the streets, with towering buildings shadowing their every move. Ashely noted that the roads had signs of heavy treads being moved through here. Most likely the Enclave had been through here recently, and they were moving something big. The group took a sharp turn at 52nd street, off the tread trail, but that didn't mean that the Enclave weren't in the area. Ashely knew the dangers of the Wasteland more than enough to let her instincts guide her eyes and hands.
With the amount of noise from the two vehicles, it was obvious the resident Super Mutants and raiders had paid them notice. Yet Ashely could not stop. She gunned the engine down a narrow straight street, swerving left and right to dodge random debris on the road, while Cross had not bothered with that, and rammed the things that stood before her. Luckily the Brotherhood had outfitted the car with reinforced framings, and with a monstrous wrecker infront designed to actually plow through buildings. Well, not all buildings. A group of Super Mutants suddenly opened fire upon the group from their building hide-out. Ashely grabbed her pistol with one hand and immediately returned fire.
The first shot from her pistol had missed its mark, and though it was actually Ashely's very first time shooting from a moving vehicle, she still felt like she could do better. Fawkes had opened the hatch on the roof of the car and mounted his gatling laser on top of the car, firing at anything at looked remotely like it could move. Most likely the group did nothing but cause the Super Mutants to duck for cover, but it was more than enough for them to get by. Ashely turned another corner, and saw barricades ahead. More Super Mutants, and they had already spotted her. She didn't bother to wait as she gunned it, heading straight for the barricade.
The mutants were clearly confident about their barricade stopping her as they did not move from their spot, firing their weapons at her. She timed her approach all within her mind, which worked in full-gear and well into overtime, calculating angles, speed, enemy count and position, ammunition level, and predicting five different outcomes. Her father's geniuses had passed down to her and became even more lethal from her constant brush with death in the Wastelands. She pulled the handles up, letting the bike run on its rear wheel. She fought to balance it right, and then she prayed. She wasn't a praying person normally, believing in numbers and figures than an actual being up in the radiate sky, but now was as a good time as any. And it paid off. She hit the barricade at the right angle, and her bike flew up into the air.
At that moment, everything seemed to pause, her mind still working in full time, locating each enemy and what they held. Her hands worked fast, pulling out her pistol and taking aim at the first mutant to her right. Her hands automatically and swiftly aimed for the head and pulled the trigger in one smooth action, and quickly moved to aim at the head of the second mutant to her left, firing almost immediately, before her bike slammed into the face of a third super mutant. She wasted no time and aimed at its head, and fired without hesitation or fear of hitting her own tire. Her first two shots in mid-air had paid off, the bullets going through their heads, and their bodies slumped onto the ground.
The third got his bullet as well, in his eye, and the sheer weight of the bike crushed his body. The body hit the ground hard, and the bike jumped a little. Ashely quickly drew her hunting rifle with her other hand, aimed it at the closest alive mutant who was in a state of surprise at what a mere human just did, and fired a bullet into its skull, felling the giant. The fifth super mutant, enraged by the death of its comrades, drew its minigun at her, but he was cut short as thousands of holes riddled his body from the gun-fire of Fawkes. The car plowed through the barricade to the left of Ashely, and Cross was apparently feeling very estatic about her driving, as apparent from her wild wolf whistles.
Five super mutants down in less than a minute. If that isn't a record, Ashely didn't know what was. She checked her pistol's catridge, and slotted in a new one. It was the same pistol Amata had given her when she left the Vault, and though Ashely had done some 'tweaking' to it, it still retained its shape. By 'tweaking', it meant Ashely increased its firepower, and modified the bullets it could fire. That explained why one bullet could kill mutant. Normally mutants have very resilient skin, their muscles were tough like steel and their bone composition was also reinforced. But Ashely had studied the workings of guns, and had quite a few chances to examine, or perhaps the proper word is 'performing an autopsy', on the mutants.
She knew what could enter that thick armour of skin, flesh and bone. She had made three types of bullets, seperate from the normal types. One was an armour piercing round, the idea stemming from the time she raided a national guard post. It was the one she used against these mutants, though it certainly gave her pistol more 'kick' than was needed. The second type of ammunition was a highly corrosive, and radioactive round. This was discovered by accident as she tried to synthesize more stimpacks, but her lab table in Megaton melted after some 'failures'. She made them into bullets, though felt reluctant to use them.
They were dangerous and she saved them for either really big, and dangerous enemies, or just to frighten the crap out of someone. The last of her munition rounds, was the scatter. It wasn't like a shotgun where the rounds scatter shortly after exiting from the barrel. This round was meant to explode and scatter shrapnel once it penetrated something. This was from a joke a ghoul from Underworld told her about how he saw a super mutant swallow a live grenade and it exploded from within. She had planned to use it together with the armour piercing round, though found that it was nearly impossible for the toughened bullet of the armour piercing round to allow an explosion once it entered the target. But it did make a very quick job of the mirelurks whom she tested it against.
She couldn't understand the anatomy of mirelurks, so the scatter bullet was the best way to deal with them if they ever thought she looked like dinner. Instead of aiming for their faces, which was hard to aim at especially when they are chargning at you and is only twenty centimetres in diameter, she could just shoot a scatter bullet into the tough shell of a mirelurk and it drop fast. Ashely looked around the small area that these mutants called their base, noticing a few bags of bloodied body parts. Seeing such sights were common when dealing with Super mutants, but she still could not get rid of that gut wrenching feeling in her gut whenever she saw those.
She dismounted from her bike, walking over to a blood-stained table where she found boxes of ammunition and a few bottle caps. Her curiousity did not stop there though, suppressing the urge to vomit, she stuck her hand into one of the body bags. Cross was feeling disgusted by that sight, and turned away from the scene. Dogmeat had apparently thought something smelt like food, as he stuck his nose into another body bag. After a short while, Ashely pulled her hand out of the last of the body bags, her entire right hand now covered with blood. She managed to grab a few caps, and a few pieces of paper.
Of course, the paper were soaked with blood, so she couldn't really read them, but managed to make out a small portion. From what she could see, it looked like a map of some mountain. However, something amongst the bodies did worry her. No sign of Enclave troops being part of the victims. Either they did not come through here, or it may prove her theory that the Enclave have somehow managed to control the Super Mutants.
And one more disturbing fact, was that these body parts were more or less butchered. Before, Super Mutants would hack victims into pieces and store them in bags for later, but these pieces looked like they went through fifty mutants each. The pieces were small, and showed signs of mad cutting. The mutants were getting more aggressive, and that never meant anything good.
"Find anything interesting?"
Cross wondered over to Ashely as the latter wiped her hand with a clean rag she found lying around. Clean as in it isn't soiled with blood. Ashely laid down the piece of paper on the table, wiping as as much blood as she can off the paper. More of the map was revealled, and somehow Ashely recognized it.
"What is it?"
"A vault map..."
"A vault? Which one?"
Ashely brought up her Pip-boy, scrolling through notes and information she pulled from vault-tec headquaters. She had been to every single vault listed in vault-tec computers, but this vault map did not look familiar. Did another vault somewhere open up and its people became victims to mutants? But Ashely did not know of any other vault in the capital wastelands. A traveller? From where? The mountain looked familiar, but she could not put her finger on it.
"I'm not sure which vault. It would be best to continue searching."
"So this is useless then?"
Ashely was not willing cross out that idea, since it could be coincidence. But something in the back of her head kept nagging at her about it.
"... I'll keep it for now."
Cross did not stop Ashely as the vault girl stuff the bloodied paper into her bag. The paladin had no hand in any of the girl's belongings being turned red. Ashely mounted her bike once mroe, and pulled a small wire with an ear piece attached from her Pip-boy. She had read about how the communicator works, though it was still in experimental phases, which meant it couldn't be used at all times. It was something the scribes had worked out so that they could locate and pin-point their forces across the wastelands.
They were tired of not being able to know where their comrades would go missing, and so each patrol was to be in constant contact with a scribe from the Citadel. As for Ashely, her connection was to a scribe in the Citadel, and to Sarah. The weary wanderer did not forget that Sarah was somehow or rather her superior. Maybe it was a bad idea to accept the invitations to the Pride, but at that time, it seemed like such a nice deal.
"This is lone wolf calling home base. Come in home base."
'"This is home base, we hear you loud and clear lone wolf."'
"I've just breached a major mutant blockade, en route to GNR."
'"Copy that, lone wolf. Pride leader is already at destination point. Reports suggest heavy mutant activity around the GNR."'
Ashely had to to sigh at that. There wasn't a single moment where she couldn't find a decent place without mutants in the capital. And the GNR has had its fair share of mutant raids. In fact, more than its fair share, that damn place seemed to have some sort of mutant pheromone, attracting mutants like moths to a flame. Still, she was heading there anyway.
"Thanks for the update. I'll head there to assist."
'"Reports have also shown heavy mutant resistance en route to destination point. Suggest you take the subway, or the freeway on 55th."'
"... Thanks, i'll keep that in mind."
'"Good luck, lone wolf. Home base out."'
She pulled out her ear piece and the Pip-boy retracted the wire by itself. She looked at the map on her pip-boy, mapping out the routes available to her. It would be best to avoid as much confrontation with the mutants as possible, but the car can't go through the subway. That meant that the freeway was the only option, though Ashely could count on heavy resistance.
"... Looks like we don't have a choice."
Ashely sighed, scratching her head as she tried to think up of something different. But as the scribe back at the Citadel said, those were her only two options. She could go in guns blazing, but that wasn't her style, and wiping out an entire horde of mutants was taxing on her munitions as well.
"So?"
Cross asked about her plan. It really looked like she didn't have a choice.
"We're going to take the freeway on the 55th. Most likely we'll meet with heavy resistance. If it comes down to it, you guys make a break for it while i'll try to draw their attention."
At the mention of that plan, Cross immediately wanted to object. But Ashely raised her hand and stopped the paladin from saying anything. The vault kid only smiled as she pulled her bike goggles over her eyes.
"Don't worry about me. I'm good at escaping."
Or so she would like to think. She pressed her body against the frame of the bike, making herself smaller to prevent getting hit as she sped down the freeway. Maybe it was a mistake to come down this path, but there wasn't anything else she could do about that. This freeway led straight to the GNR, and only if there weren't so many Super Mutants, then this would be easy. But it rarely is. She forced the bike to swerve to the right to avoid a rocket that exploded in the spot she was just a mere second ago.
If it were of any consolation, at least Fawkes was having a blast shooting down Mutants as they were chased down the road. His mad cheers was something that brought a little comfort back to their rather dangerous predicament. A glint from the window of a building caught her eye, and she swerved just in time as a bullet from a sniper hit the ground. Madness wasn't going to cut it anymore. This was a suicide. Did that scribe have something against her or something?
She turned and looked over at the car. Her eyes met with Cross's, and she nodded. It was time. She found her exit, and gunned the engine, hitting a car on the side of the freeway straight on, using it as a ramp to fly off the freeway. Of course, the Mutants weren't just going to change their target so easily. So she drew her pistol, and fired a couple of shots at the pursuing mutants, who had managed to get a couple of nice wheels as well, though those quadbikes with their steel exo-skeleton, and dirt buggies were quite a bad taste.
She didn't care if any of the shots hit, though she did hear tires screeching. As planned, the mutants now began their chase for her, letting Cross and the car get by safely. Now for the subway. She spotted the nearest subway entrance and headed straight for it. With those mutants sticking closely to her, they wouldn't be able to follow Cross once she exited their sights. But that was IF she managed to get away from their incredible sense of tracking. Her bike rammed hard against the metal gate of the subway entrace, forcing it open. She gunned it, driving into the subway station, though it was against her calculations that the Mutants would actually dare to enter. She could still hear the roars of their machines behind her.
She drove over a pile of garbbage to skip the ticket barrier, and used her foot as an anchor to make a sharp turn, driving off the overhead platform, down to the tracks below. She did not turn to see if the Mutants were following, riding off into the tunnels. After riding down the dark tunnel for a couple of minutes, she slowed down her bike and finally stopped. She lifted her goggles from her eyes, daring to look back just this once. No noise, and no sign of their machines. Maybe she did lose them. Heaving a sigh of relief, she leaned back in her seat, allowing a moment to catch her breath. All of the adrenaline rushing through her blood was going to make her faint sooner or later. And it was making her head spin.
"Not good."
She rummaged through her pouch, and pulled out a small bottle. She popped it open and let a small amount of its contents spill in her hand. Dark coloured pills fell from the battle and into her palm. She counted five pills, and poured the rest back into the bottle, before she forced the pills into her mouth and swallowed them. They left a bad taste in her mouth, but it was necessary. Not all of her body functions were working at their optimal level since the radiation accident, and it would prove fatal if any of them were to fail on her now. She closed her eyes as she felt the pills go down.
It would take awhile for the medication to circulate through her bloodstream, so for the moment, she shouldn't push it. Well, at least she shouldn't, but she quickly drew her pistol in reaction to a sound to her left, down a tunnel that split off from the one she was on. The quick action made her head feel like it was going to explode, but she forced the pain down. A moment of hesitation in the Wasteland could mean death. She kept her hand steady at the source of the sound, making sure to be ready for anything, though she knew what was there.
The subways were crawling with them so she knew she would run into them sooner or later. And her instincts were right. Stepping into the light of a nearby flaming oil drum, the creature, with its rotting flesh, decaying gums, and pupiless eyes moaned its usual sound, making another step towards her. A ghoul. And by the looks of it, a feral ghoul. Ghouls were split into two groups. The intelligent, more polite and well-mannered than their counter parts, despite their rather hard-to-look-at appearances ghouls were still considered friendly, though they were mostly cranky.
The other group consists of feral ghouls. Basically, mindless zombies who have no care for hygiene and your screams, nor do they care for their own well-being as they would blindly charge straight into a minigun anytime if you dangled a juicy piece of meat, or a dumb traveller, in front of them. However, despite being known to blindly charge and run at their victims, this feral ghoul was.... walking. She also noticed that this ghoul was bleeding. Not just from one wound, but multiple wounds. Crimson blood slowly seeping from wounds all over its body, and yet it still managed to hobble on towards her, baring its nearly toothless mouth.
The stench of the creature seemed to reach her nose as she cringed from its foul odor. Whatever happened to this ghoul did not let it go quietly. The least she could do for this thing was to end it quickly. She pulled the trigger, dropping the creature after its head exploded in a shower of blood and brain. She lowered her gun, and placed a hand to her head, wiping away her sweat from her brow. Her body was starting to react to the pills, and she shouldn't move much till the side-effects went away. The side effects were uncontrollable shakes, headaches, profuse sweating, disorientation, and suddenly lost of energy.
She managed to pull out the stand for the bike, before she collapsed off the machine onto the ground. Her breathing was hard as the effects began to coarse through her body. She hated this part, as her mind could not focus. Her surroundings seemed to waver, shake, shimmer like water, twisting and turning like she was a turning table seeing the world go round. Her mind could not make sense of anything and it was pounding hard against her skull.
Though her instincts did not fade with the rest of her senses. Danger was approaching, and it would most likely be more feral ghouls. She forced her hand to draw her pistol, but her shakes and disorientation made the pistol fall from her hand to the ground next to where she lay. Her body curled up into a ball as a reaction to everything. She couldn't die here. Not here, not now. Not after coming so far.
"...fa...ther...."
She felt hot tears falling from her eyes, and that was the one thing she remembered the most. Tears. She never seemed to run out of those. When her father went off without her, when she had to leave Amata behind, when she felt lost and alone in the wastelands, when she had make terrible choices, when her father died. Shots suddenly rang out through the tunnel. Her eyes couldn't focus, though her instincts had taken over her thinking and wondered if raiders or mutants were in the area. Light footsteps made its way towards her, and soon boots came into her unfocused field of vision.
"Well, what do we have here? Hey, are you alright?"
A soft feminine voice asked. She could not reply, her face contorted as the final phases of the medication kicked in. The shakes of her body became more violent, her body temperature felt like it was plummeting, her mind was nearly on the verge of exploding, and her senses began to go wild, receiving information yet not processing them correctly. Sights became smell, smell became sounds, sounds became touch.
"Woah... did you get bitten by those ghouls?... It doesn't look like you're injured... a jet user? Well, either way, i can't leave you here."
She felt her body being lifted and carried, though with some difficulty it seemed. She was placed down once more, but this time on a more smooth surface. The side of the tracks perhaps. She closed her eyes as the effects started to wash away. The feeling was never pleasant, but getting rid of the effects were worth anything. Her vision came to, and she blinked a couple of times to get her eyes back in order.
Her thoughts slowly came back to her. She had to remind herself not to take more than the prescribed number of pills, though she thought that taking in increased dosages would reduce the number of times she would have to take them, unfortunately it didn't seem too smart. She steadied her head with her hand, and looked up, only to see a person standing over her bike, inspecting it quite intently.
"Woah.... you have some really cool gear. You sure aren't any ordinary jet user, are you?"
Jet? Did this person think that she was using jet? She struggled to her feet, still feeling slightly disoriented from the terrible, even if short, ordeal.
"Who... are you?"
"Hm?"
The person looked up to her. A young woman, probably just a year or two younger than herself, with dark red hair tied in a ponytail and a pair of sparkling blue eyes. Sparkling like how kids find their most favourite toy or sweet before them. In this case, this young woman seemed to find her stash of equipment and weapons to be a treasure trove. This woman was dressed in a similar fashion to her own, though the woman's vest was a deep red. Her trench coat was also coloured in a similar fashion, and everything about this woman seemed to scream blood. Like she bathed in it.
"Oh? You recovery quickly, don't you?"
"... First thing, i'm not a jet user. I'm on medication."
The woman raised an eyebrow, then scratched her chin in thought.
"Medication? What for?"
"... I'd rather not talk about that."
"Hmmm, alright, if you don't want to talk about it, fine by me."
She felt caught off-guard by this woman's easy going nature, not that she had any right to say that. Though she didn't know it herself, she is more easy-going than most people would think her to be. Sure, she may concentrate hard on her task at hand, but when she doesn't have anything to do, she could wing anything. She left a group of raiders alone mainly because she didn't feel like shooting.
The young woman had a freshness about her that she did not miss. Like she didn't belong in the wastelands. Almost like... a vault dweller. But with that coat, she couldn't tell if this woman had a pip-boy or not. That was a sure fire way to figure out. She looked around, and saw bodies of feral ghouls scattered about. Fresh too, if that was something she could use to describe decaying corpses of decaying creatures. This woman must have some shooting arm to deal with this number of ghouls at one time.
"... Hm? Hey! Isn't that a pip-boy?"
That question sparked her interest. So this woman is a vault dweller.
"Yes, it is.... don't you have one?"
"Yup. Though it really looks bad with my clothes."
The woman pulled her sleeve back, showing off the device on her arm. The thing that binds all vault dwellers to their past and the horrible truth. So this proves it. This woman is a vault dweller. But-
"Which vault do you come from?"
She had to know. This had to do something with that bloodied map of an unknown vault for sure. She knew it with every bit of her telling her so.
"I'm not too sure. There wasn't a number or anything. They just called it, 'the Vault'. Even the Overseer was a strange one."
"... Where is this vault?"
"I'm not too sure. I got out of the vault, but got knocked out almost immediately by a radscorpian. Luckily a bunch of traders found me and brought me to their camp."
"Where are these traders now?"
The woman shook her head.
"Don't know. Parted with them quite some time ago."
"... Doesn't you pip-boy have a map?"
"Does, but most of its functions are offline after that hit with the radscorpian. The map lost most of its data of the vault, so don't bother asking."
She had a strange feeling that the data lost of no mere coincidence. However maybe this girl could be trusted.
"So, what brings you out of the vault?"
"I'm searching for my brother."
Wait, searching? Somehow this all sounds too familiar.
"Your brother?"
"Yes. He left without telling me anything. I had to leave the vault as well as the vault security began to act strangely. I thought it had something to do with my brother's disappearance, but maybe not."
This story was all too familiar, though she knew the feeling of losing somebody and going all out to search for them.
"So do you have any clues? Maybe i can help."
At that, the woman's smile broadened.
"Really? Thanks! you're the first person to actually extend their hand to help me."
"Well, the people of the wastelands are not too trusting. Survival of the fittest."
"I can see from the amount of firepower you're packing."
Okay, she's an exception. She's a gun freak, so it should be normal for her to have an armory worthy to rival a battlion of Enclave troops.
"So? Any clues?"
"Ah, yeah. I asked around, and i came across the name of someone who could help me. Apparently this person, or savior from the stories i constantly hear, lost somebody close to them as well and searched all over the wastelands and finally found their loved one."
Her mind froze. Why does this sound all too familiar as well?
"You can't mean-"
"I'm looking for the one they call the 'lone wanderer'. Do you know him?"